


the three of us

by unagis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Time Skips, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unagis/pseuds/unagis
Summary: They say that life is a journey of many destinations. Life is a lot of things, but maybe for Oikawa Tooru, life is simply falling for the one person he can’t have.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	the three of us

“Do you like me, Tooru?” 

It feels like a bucket of ice water is dumped on his head, drenching him from head to toe. The straw that’s previously spinning around in his fingers is dropped abruptly as he stares at you. A surprised and rather unflattering sound leaves his lips as his eyebrows practically raise up to his hairline. You look directly at him, unfazed, as you repeat the question again with a fiery intensity in your eyes. Oikawa finds it difficult to meet your gaze and directs his stare out the window at the neon lights of the city instead. 

It feels like all the air has rushed out of his lungs when he finally musters enough courage to look in your direction. You don’t seem too phased despite the fact you dropped such a sudden and, quite frankly, intrusive question. He wants to think you’re heartless, but he knows better. It’s probably killing you inside to have this conversation just as much as it’s been killing him not to say anything. Your fingers lazily draw patterns in the condensation gathering on the plastic cup before your eyes raise to meet his questioningly. 

You lock him in place with your gaze alone, and he sits, paralyzed, as his mouth tries to form words to say. What should he even say in this kind of situation? Is there anything he can say? 

Panic clouds his mind as he jumps on the first opportunity out of the situation. He laughs, albeit nervously, and counters your question with one of his own. 

“What do you mean, (Y/n)-chan?” 

He says it so casually, almost as if he was merely discussing the weather—which is surprisingly what he’d rather talk about right now. It’s not quite an answer, but it’s not quite a denial either. Oikawa fidgets in his seat with a crooked smile as you frown. You don’t appear amused, and you stare at him with what he can clearly tell is disapproval. 

Sighing, you drop your gaze and stir around the straw of your boba while watching as the tapioca pearls and egg pudding swirl around your rose milk tea. You seem to be in thought with your brows all furrowed and your lips all pursed, before you eventually relax and soften your features. 

“I... I don’t know, I just thought...” you quietly admit, trailing off and not quite finishing your train of thought. When you look up at him again, your frown is gone and replaced with something unreadable. “I had a feeling... that’s all.”

It’s cute watching you fumble for the right words—it’s something that doesn’t happen often. He always knew that you were extremely perceptive. It’s been that way since you were kids, and you would always have a habit of fiddling your fingers with something, anything, when you were nervous. Oikawa watches as you reach up a hand to fiddle with the silver ring around your neck, and then his heart plummets. Annoyance simmers in the pit of his stomach when he goes over your question in his mind over and over like a broken record. 

What was he supposed to say? That yes, he liked you— _still_ likes you. That he was supposed to pretend things are fine when he clearly wasn't. That he’s supposed to be content with just being your friend even if he has to delude himself into believing that. That it’s supposed to hurt less after all these years when he sees you happier with someone else, especially if that someone is his best friend. 

Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but Oikawa feels like his have only gotten progressively worse with the years. And then he realizes that there’s only so much he can do before everything spirals out of his control. 

He’s extroverted, and he’s expressive. Oikawa Tooru can not walk into a room without drawing attention to himself, and that’s not just his narcissism (which he certainly _doesn’t_ have, thank you very much) speaking. His natural charisma and hard-earned talent are only two of the many factors that draws people towards him. He manages to charm most—if not all—of those who stumble across him. However, in the end, Oikawa talks too much, but actually says very little. 

You, however, are more on the quiet side and definitely less vibrant. Your gaze tells people much, much more than what your lips do. You don’t speak too much—only when it’s necessary to carry out a conversation, and even then, you don’t make efforts to say more than what actually needs to be said. You’re more comfortable on the sidelines where you can observe and watch people unravel before your eyes. 

And right now, here in this small boba shop somewhere in the middle of the bustling city of Tokyo, it feels like everything Oikawa Tooru both _is_ and _isn’t_ begins to fall apart. 

“So,” you prompt, taking a sip of your drink. 

“So?” he echoes. Oikawa wishes he could match your nonchalance right now, but he can’t. 

“Do you like me?” 

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone in the small shop, which isn’t many to begin with, seems to cease in their talking. Oikawa, feeling very much put on the spot, almost loses composure. 

He wonders how it even boiled down to this specific confrontation. You and him were only supposed to meet up before he had to leave Japan again and you had to return to classes back at Todai. In what little time you had together, you were only supposed to talk about safe topics that he knows he won’t care about a few days later because they’ll be already in the back of his mind before he’s on his flight—inconsequential things, like how he was doing and what’s it like being on the other side of the world. But not this. 

Feelings are supposed to be the forbidden topic—not that he ever outright and explicitly stated he likes you, but he is almost one hundred percent certain that he has been careful about hiding how he feels. Apparently, that isn’t enough because somehow you knew. 

“Yes,” he grits out, frustrated. It’s a sudden confession, and the plastic cup in his hand is crushed under the sudden pressure of his grip, spilling whatever he had bought for himself (taro milk tea) all over the table. “I liked—” he chokes, throat closing up on him because why were the words so damn difficult to say. Oikawa coughs once and quickly corrects himself, “— _like_ you. But does it matter now? You’re with—” _Iwa-chan_. 

Somehow, Oikawa can’t bring himself to say the name. He knows he’ll choke up again if he does, but he won’t cry, he’s way past that point already. The milk tea is starting to dry, growing sticky on his hands. He reaches for a napkin to wipe the tabletop and his hands as you set your drink aside. 

“Of course it matters, Tooru.” 

The way you sigh afterward seems tired, like you would rather have any other conversation but this, but you know that you have to talk about it or else it will bother you for the rest of your life. Oikawa knows this too, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward or any less painful. 

“How long have you known?” The question tumbles from his mouth before he can stop it, and when he catches you wince, he suddenly decides right then and there that he will probably be better off not knowing. 

“... Five years.” 

He sucks in a breath, the realization finally catching up to him. 

“That was before Iwa-chan confessed, wasn’t it?” 

You don’t meet his eyes when you answer. “Yes.” 

_Fuck_. 

He doesn’t curse aloud, however, because Oikawa Tooru rarely curses—certainly not in public at least, but by text or when it’s private, sure. He’s supposed to not care but pretend like he does. He’s supposed to be the adaptable setter, the one who tailors himself to fit other people’s needs. Oikawa Tooru has appearances to keep up, roles to fill. 

But here, Oikawa Tooru is nothing more than an idiot who’s spent years of his life pining after someone he could never have. 

“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?” 

He knows he’s grasping for straws at this point. You don’t have to tell him anything. You’re not obligated to, but Oikawa feels that he has every right to know why you knew but chose not to say anything. A rejection back then would hurt less than it did now. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t, either.” You appear apologetic, with your eyes downcast and your fingers fiddling with the ends of your hair instead. At least he thinks you are, but it’s hard to tell with you sometimes. 

It’s hard to read you more often than it’s not. You’re not that expressive besides a few telltale signs, and Oikawa wishes he was Iwaizumi because Iwaizumi always seems to know how you’re feeling. But no, none of his wishes ever come true because he’s still just Oikawa Tooru—your friend, not boyfriend. 

It’s absolutely breaking his heart to continue asking, but he has to know or else it’ll eat him up from the inside. 

“Does Iwa-chan know?” 

You shake your head, and one of his worries dissipates. He curses for real this time, and it’s long and drawn out as he buries his face in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table. 

Oikawa wants to turn back time somehow to when things weren’t so complicated and learn how to make things right the first time so this kind of confrontation never happens, but when he peeks through his fingers again, you’re still here sitting in front of him. You have your hand somewhat raised and reaching towards his shoulder, as if you’re unsure if you even have the right to comfort him while a look of conflict flickers across your face as you fight that internal battle. 

You’re wearing the stupid pumpkin orange beanie Oikawa had bought you for a birthday gift three years ago, and your formerly long hair is cut shoulder length. He misses your long hair, remembering how you used to tie it into three braids—why three was what he always asked, but you tell him that it’s a fashion similar to one of your favorite characters and that three is your favorite number. He tells you that he misses it, but ignores the way his heart clenches when you mention that Haji thinks the haircut is adorable and it’s more manageable. 

Jealousy eats away at his core, but it’s only natural that you would call him, _Tooru_ , and Iwaizumi, _Haji_. When he wonders why you haven’t given him a cute nickname yet, he remembers the way you curiously peered at him through long lashes before asking, _“You want to be called Shittykawa?”_ while Iwaizumi chuckles and Oikawa fake laughs as if discomfort wasn’t scraping away at his insides like shards of glass.

Your fringe is pinned up by two acrylic frog hair clips—gifts from Iwaizumi when he came to visit you, and Oikawa remembers that it’s a character you really liked in your youth, Keroppi was the name. Your time in Tokyo changed you. He can’t quite place why you’re different, but something in his bones just knows it. You look so much like a city girl now that Oikawa almost forgets for a second that you grew up with him in Miyagi, and you would hike into the woods over your summers in the hunt for tadpoles and cicadas with Iwaizumi when the days were simpler and life was kinder. 

“I’m sorry,” you say first, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. You still needed time, and it wasn’t my place.” 

“No,” he denies, shaking his head to interrupt your obviously loud thoughts as you squeeze your fingers in one hand strong enough that your knuckles turn milky white. “It’s fine—” _it wasn’t_ , “—I’m just surprised because it caught me off guard. Why now?” 

“I’m sorry, Tooru.” Your voice cracks as you apologize again, and he realizes that your eyes are glassy almost as if you were going to cry, which is ridiculous because you don’t ever cry. And there are two important things that Oikawa realizes right then and there. 

You’re tired because you have been keeping this to yourself for five years. Each and every time Iwaizumi suggested to do something together as a group like old times, you have always looked at Oikawa to make sure he was alright with the arrangement. He remembers a conversation he had over the phone with you the other day, and he’s suddenly glad it was only a call or else he would have seen the turmoil in your eyes. 

_“So I heard Iwa-chan was back in town.”_

_“Yeah? What about it?”_

_“You got to hang out and you didn’t think of inviting me? How mean, (Y/n)-chan!”_

He’s so insensitive. 

When he hears your voice again, it’s so quiet that he really has to strain himself to decipher the words from the outside noise of after work traffic. 

“You’ve kept this to yourself for so much longer than how long I’ve known, and I don’t want this to wear you down. I thought that you needed the closure. You deserve that much, Tooru.”

Your fingers find comfort in the silver band around your neck again, and it’s like Oikawa finally understands. You’re both adults and time will never be stagnant just because Oikawa Tooru has feelings that he’s too scared to ever admit aloud. The world is moving on faster than he can comprehend, to the point where it’s going to give him whiplash if he doesn’t start to move with it. 

There is going to come a time when Iwaizumi is going to propose to you with a ring—a _real_ one this time, not the promise ring he had bought you as a White Day gift that doesn’t even fit because Iwaizumi thought to have the ring custom fit to his size instead—and Oikawa would have to suck it up and deal with permanently being second place in a race he never wanted to be a part of. 

He’s going to be the best man because even after everything he is both yours and Iwaizumi’s best friend. He’s going to be the one giving the celebratory speech that’s going to move half the guests to tears, and he’s going to watch as you exchange vows while wishing he was the one at the altar instead. Sometime after, he’s going to be the one who congratulates you on the marriage with a fake expression of happiness on his face. There’s going to be girls who attend the wedding vying for his attention after the bouquet toss. And while he may be everyone else’s Prince Charming, he wasn’t yours because you already have your knight in shining armor. 

“I tried to forget,” he confesses after a few beats of silence, “but it’s not that easy.” 

You finally reach over to place a hand on top of his with a solemn expression. “It never is.” 

“Sometimes I want it to be. When you asked, it caught me completely off guard. You always have been good at saying only what you need to, (Y/n)-chan.” 

Flinching, you retract your hand before he can stop you and ask you to keep it right where it was. You look guilty before a sense of nostalgia washes over your features, and your lips form a melancholic smile. 

“You’ve said that exact thing once before, when we were little.” 

Right, he has. It was during your second year at Kitagawa Daiichi, and he had a fight with you over something trivial that he can’t even recall. You had said something that hit a little too close to home about how he’s always been a fake since the first day you met him, and he lashed out in kind saying something along the lines of how you’re cruel and you never think about others before you open your mouth. He supposes now that the both of you had some truth with your statements—he’s still a faker, and you’re still too blunt. 

It’s one of the first few times Iwaizumi had taken your side over his, and somehow that notion hurt less than the fact that you refused to talk to him for the next week. As much as he was stubborn and insistent on the fact that he didn’t need either of you, he found himself being the one to apologize first. His heart did a weird leap in his chest when you also apologized and admitted that you didn’t really mean what you said, and it was then when Oikawa realized that he would be more scared of losing you than anything else. 

So _yes_ , he likes you. Oikawa might even dare to admit that he loves you, but he knows he’s not the one for you. 

When he’s back from his small trip down memory lane, he focuses on you again. You’re back to stirring your drink absentmindedly, but the ice has already long melted. He knows that it’s either going to be now or never, so he pours out all his feelings into three simple words. 

“I love you.” 

He says it like he really means it because he does, and you freeze as he holds his breath. 

Faster than he can blink, you’re already pulling him into a hug, and Oikawa is almost ashamed of the way he melts into your embrace. He can hear your heartbeat, but it’s nowhere near as loud as his. You don’t do anything other than wordlessly squeezing him in your arms as if to convey that you’re sorry. When you finally respond with an expression that’s nothing but kind, Oikawa feels his heart shattering into pieces because your words don’t carry the same weight as his do. 

“I love you too, Tooru.”

He’s not quite ready to let this moment slip away, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready, but he has to try. It wasn’t right for him to hold on when you were already trying to let go. He thinks he’s happier in another universe or another lifetime, but for now, he’s content knowing that it’s you who he has fallen for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what had started out as a short idea for writing when i needed to vent turned out to be a small story split into 3 parts. haha watch me not finish this until next year lol. in all seriousness, i'll write something happy for oikawa one day. maybe.


End file.
